To be honest, the March for Babies was really sad and actually really hard to be apart of. The main reason I feel this way was because it seemed like the overwhelming number of teams participating in the march were walking in honor of a child they lost do to either extreme prematurity or disease. For example, the team we walked next to the majority of the three mile walk were walking in memory of their son who lived for a day before passing away from Trisomy 18 this past November. They all had matching t-shirts that listed their relationship to the baby, such as grandparent, mother, cousin, etc. There were many other teams/families with similar stories: they had children born far earlier than Nick's 30 weeks weighing between 1-2 pounds (so half the size of Nick.) Some families shared on their signs or t-shirts why their child was born so early (such as preeclampsia or IUGR with multiples,) but most simply had matching t-shirts dedicated to the baby they lost with sayings like, "Held briefly in our arms but forever in our hearts." Along the walk route, there were signs with pictures of babies who passed away with descriptions of their short lives and messages of love from their parents.
I guess I just wasn't expecting it to be so heavy. Since I was marching in honor of my preemie, I guess I was expecting the focus to be more on prematurity awareness and the March of Dimes' campaign to help women with high risk pregnancies. I don't mean to say it wasn't a beautiful event-I'm sure honoring the memory of their sweet baby among other families who have experienced a similar loss is very therapeutic, and an important, visible reminder as to why raising money for organizations like the March of Dimes is so important.
I spent the majority of the day feeling extreme post-NICU guilt. I was walking with a healthy, now 11 pound baby who never suffered or experienced any serious setbacks during his time in the NICU. I didn't see any families who had babies born as "late" as Nick, or over 30 weeks at all. It gave me the feeling that I didn't belong, that I didn't have the right to lump myself in the same category as a mother whose child was born at 24 weeks and weighed barely a pound. We might have both had our baby in the NICU, but our experiences were far from the same. I can imagine a justifiable eye roll on their part if they were to read my blog and see that the only difficulties Nick experienced in his 53 days in the NICU were a swollen testicle and constipation. I have been trying to come up with a way to give back to the doctors and nurses who cared for Nick and I, and to find a way to help moms like me, but I keep coming back to the same feelings of guilt, like I don't have the right to speak on behalf of NICU moms when a "tough" NICU day for Nick would have been a walk in the park for them. Maybe it's immaturity or selfishness on my part, and I think I will probably participate again next year because this cause has become such a passion of mine, I will just be better prepared for the sadness and hopefully my post-NICU will be a bit better by then.
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